He was a civil servant of some standing, and after a previous conversation upon aesthetics of a sententious, nebulous, and sympathetic character, he had sent her a small volume, which he described as the fruits of his leisure and which was as a matter of fact rather carefully finished verse. Had to. I don’t love you. “We may just as well have our talk afterwards,” she said, “and I need not keep poor Mr. "I hope not. “Well,” she said. ” She closed her mouth. But you will, you will. And then, there would be the question of money. But I’m generously ignorant of gems. But she was disappointed. “And as for praying for faith—this sort of monologue is about as near as any one of my sort ever gets to prayer.
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